Excuses. Excuses. Excuses.

You may be happy to know that Slave was back in his cage again on Tuesday. Mistress sent me off to work after some morning sex (she likes it when the hard steel ring provides some extra heft to her work-a-day cock), having closed the lock and tucked away the key.

"You're not taking this key with you, Slave."

Well of course not.

At the end of the day she had scheduled a long bike ride  with former fuck-buddy Jay, so she gave me the authority to remove the cage so I could go on my own end-of-day ride without jeopardizing the family jewels.

"You do need your exercise, Slave."

When she got home, she even let her Slave worship dutifully with a little introductory full disclosure.

"It's a little grimy down there Slave.... I was on that saddle for about 20 miles...."

"That's the way I like it Mistress....."

Yum. 

But before signing off this morning , I have to go back to yesterday's blog comments , and the multiple excuses Suzanne seems to have for not coming to see her Patriots take on my Pussycats in two weeks. First there was something about nursing Jay back to health after some type of elective surgery; but he must be healthy enough that the following night they plan to take in a Red Sox play-off game, which was excuse number two; and then, the last excuse,  about how Sybriates not going for the tackiness of RVs.  It reminded me a little of a teenaged girl explaining why she couldn't turn in her Science project on time. You know: "The dog ate it"; and  "it was in the trunk of Dad's car which was totaled"; and then "the landlord evicted us and left it out with the trash". When actually she got stoned with her friends at a concert and forgot it was due.  The more excuses you have the lamer they all sound.

It's hard to imagine that Jay, having elected some surgery, can't make his own chicken soup for a couple of days. Or that there won't be other Red Sox games to attend....that's why they call it a play-off "series". More ... than ... one. As for the RV being too low brow, well, Suzanne, I'm sure something that is worthy of your Dmme-ish station could be arranged.  It would not have to be this kind, though the big screen is nice:

It's a little too pedestrian for your tastes, isn't it?

No, maybe something a tad more stylish, like this...

With a plush interior worthy of a true sybriate of station, such as yourself:

Of course it must be equipped with a suitable bedroom that has all the accourtrements you require.... a cabinet chock full of bondage equipment and lingerie for Tammy... maybe a selection of penis gags, baby monitor, and a special glass cabinet for the display of big blackie. And since Tammy may need to be "of service" on this grueling 16 hour drive to the vast and hostile wastelands of the American interior, I am sure if you put out a casting call on your blog, some of your devoted followers would surely volunteer for driving shifts just to be in your regal presence.

No, I think your aversion to an RV is just another lame excuse. The real explanation for your reluctance must be the sinking feeling you have that with the absence of Aarron "The Killer" Hernandez and Wes "The Smurf" Welker, the Pats don't match up well against the Pussycats. I was looking forward to a bet involving no points, with the spoils being something like Tammy doing his worshipful best on Mistress's clean shaven folds once the dust settles on the field. (I guess there is no dust on artificial turf, but you get my drift).

Ah well. I guess it's not to be. I will just have to fill in for Tammy once I get home from the game.

One Reader Will Be Pleased to Know....

That Slave was back in his cage yesterday.

Yes, it's been a while. We'd been traveling some together, so Mistress had no real "security" concerns. Then last week.... well, Mistress has been focused on getting her new practice up and running, and Slave had his usual excuses....

"I can't wear the cage to a Monday night football game, Mistress... They're wanding now, and what about when I need to take a pee....."

Can you imagine what a Stiller fan would say if he got a gander at my cock cage while lined up at those stadium urinals? Of course, it is made of steel, so maybe I'd get a little grudging respect!

But I'd run out of excuses by yesterday, and Mistress was not to be deterred.

"I've been a little too lax Slave....."

Naturally, I followed her directives, as the contract requires. I must say I had gotten a little rusty when it comes to squishing my balls into that infernal steel ring. And the commure to work had Slave squirming a bit to get comfortable.

But it was my lucky day in one sense. Mistress had time to stop by after a lunch meeting for a little mid-afternoon worship.  It's not quite tights weather yet here in River City, so it was simple enough for her to slide off her black undies, sit on her thrown, spread those lovely legs and let Slave do what a Slave does best.

Yum.

"How's the cage Slave", she asked after I had finished my task.

"Tight, Mistress... particularly right now."

"Awwww.... poor Slave."

(Somehow I don't think she was really feeling too sorry for me.)

And before Suzanne starts chortling to the effect of "it's about time!", I'm wondering why we haven't heard too much about Tammy being in his cage lately. Have you gone all squishy on us Suzanne?

In addition to Mistress's cage crackdown, the weekend here was remarkable for one thing that did not occur between the sheets . Slave took our cute Co-Ed and her boyfriend to see the local Pussycats in their titanic struggle against the Pack, who brought to town a whole coterie of fans from the dairy lands of WIsconsin to root them on.

It was a bizarre game, with eight turnovers and several momentum shifts. Fortunately, the local team got the last laugh, sending us home chanting "Who Dey".  But for all those fans who came from parts north in their tricked out RV's, it must have been a long drive home, particularly if they kept their silly, ventilated hats on....

It made me count the days until  October 6th, when the Patriots come to town.... we're anxious to show our hospitality to our friends from New England too! Make yoyr reservations soon, Suzanne. Unless you have an RV for Tammy to drive here....

An Invitation

Mistress and Slave did not disappear somewhere over that vast empty wasteland between the coasts, dear readers.

We made it back here to River City late Sunday night, and were too quickly immersed in "life" so to speak - work, family, and for Slave a too late night Monday at the stadium, where my pussycats had one of their rare victories over that dreaded team from Pittsburgh.

Indeed, as a result of that late night, Monday was an unscheduled abstinence day for both of us.... though the ship has been righted since then, or our reputation as sex blogging maniacs would be at severe risk, wouldn't it?

It's a bit of a drag being back to the grind here after two glorious weeks in our SW hideaway, though the empty nest has been nice. And Mistress has been stuck with only her Slave's attentions. She is in a discriminating mood.... one of her former Cougar week conquests - the guy who lives in the same little college town as our older cute co-ed - has been badgering her all week for a "hook-up" but.....

"I'm really not in the mood for him Slave..... I think there's something else on his agenda, and I've got other things to deal with...."

"Understood Mistress. It's your prerogative to say 'no', as well as 'yes'...."

But there is something coming up on the schedule that caught my attention this week.... early next month the mighty New England Patriots, with the guy in the hoodie, are coming to town to take on the Pussycats....you know, the team that our friends over at All Mine live and die for. I have four season tickets for the game, still unspoken for. So what better way to encourage comity amongst competing sex blog empires than to invite our friendly rivals to join us for the game?

So here's the offer Suzanne....

-Three lower bowl, 14th row seats, with good views of the Pussycat cheerleaders who will surely amuse Jay ( and maybe even Tammy).
-Plush accommodations in the guest suite at the UCTMW World HQ, only a 20 minute drive from the stadium.
-A "night on the town" in the Queen City of the West. (We actually have a few nice restaurants.)
-Free use of our collection of wooden risotto spoons.
- The prospects of an amusing bet on the outcome of the game, which might be immediately "cashed in", should your party elect to spend Sunday night after the game!

Should you elect to accept this invitation Suzanne, Slave might even invest in a plastic cage to get through the cracker jack stadium wanding jockeys, because we know how you feel about slaves without cages.

Humping Completed

As shown below Slave did lots of "humping" over the last few days, and with no help from our MIA Western Correspondent. Of course Mistress needed plenty of humping, along with plenty of worship over a few days of unusually cloudy skies that cut into her naked sunbathing time. 

And then there was that cord of wood to  hump into neat stacks under our portal. As you can see we are now ready for the "end times". Or at least several Long cold winters locked away inside our cottage with mischief on our minds.